


Guilt that binds us

by hllfire



Category: IT (Movies - Muschietti), IT - Stephen King
Genre: Angst, Bill Denbrough Stutters, Canon Compliant, Character Death, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Mild Blood, Richie Tozier is a Good Friend, Sad Bill Denbrough
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-27
Updated: 2020-04-27
Packaged: 2021-03-01 20:41:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,717
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23883175
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hllfire/pseuds/hllfire
Summary: Months after leaving Derry and defeating Pennywise, Bill and Richie talk again about what happened and about Eddie.
Relationships: Beverly Marsh & Richie Tozier, Bill Denbrough & Richie Tozier, Eddie Kaspbrak/Richie Tozier
Comments: 8
Kudos: 36





	Guilt that binds us

**Author's Note:**

> Ash, get fucked. You made me leave my Cherik bullshit to write angst for the clown movie again and post it on the same day, I swear to god. For the ones reading this that aren't Ash, hi, it's been a while since I've written for this fandom but here you go!
> 
> This idea comes from [this tweet.](https://twitter.com/TransRTozier/status/1254863808201289728)
> 
> Hope you guys enjoy it and I'm sorry.

Richie didn't understand exactly why Bill had called him, stuttering through the phone that he wanted to meet him soon so he could talk to Richie about something that, in the writer's own words, had been _eating him alive._ Richie agreed, realizing he hadn't talked much to Bill ever since they left Derry again — ever since Pennywise had made their lives hell once more —, and that same day when it was already dark and the streets of Los Angeles were buzzing with people going around, the town's nightlife keeping it alive, Richie walked around those streets to meet his friend.

Bill had given Richie the address to a small and unknown bar that made the comedian wonder _how the fuck_ had Bill Denbrough found that place in some weird street of Los Angeles that was nowhere close to his house, the bar weirdly empty — only a few people here and there having a good ol' time — when he arrived. He spotted his friend soon enough, lilac sweater and jeans and shoes that once had been white but now had a dirty yellow color standing out in the middle of the well dressed teenagers that were there and the few other adults that wore more fitting clothes for a night out on a bar like that. There was already a glass of brandy in Bill's hand when Richie walked next to him, hands on the pockets of his jacket as he raised his eyebrows at the weird face his friend was doing, almost as if Bill was angry at something, and soon he noticed Richie's presence there.

Richie offered a smile. Bill didn't smile back.

"You surely seem happy to see me, Billiam." he tried, seeing Bill move uncomfortably in his chair before he smiled back at Richie, half-heartedly.

"Suh-sorry, there's just a lot in my mind."

"If it's about your next book, here's a piece of advice: change the ending. I have no fucking idea what it is about but I already know the ending is trash."

Richie watched as Bill whispered a _'fuck's sake'_ under his breath, taking another sip of his drink but this time smiling at Richie's teasing tone. That was more like him, but there was still something there, a tension to Bill's muscles that made Richie wary, but he decided not to comment, hugging the smaller man when he got up to do that. Soon enough, they were sitting on a booth and talking normally over their drinks, Richie telling the other man about the difficulties of the comedian lifestyle and about his new project, which he was taking on his own hands this time, feeling a little more confident in doing so. Bill didn't believe Richie's words when he said John Mulaney was involved in it, only truly believing once Richie showed him a picture of them together. 

Richie felt comfortable there, with Bill smiling and groaning at his bad jokes and talking to him about everything and nothing at the same time as if they were normal people, two friends that grew up together and now were just getting back together for a good night of catching up. As if they didn't go through hell together less than a year ago, as if both of them hadn't lost their loved ones to a creature that still haunted Richie's dreams some nights when all he could do was stay awake so the nightmares didn't come. It felt good to feel normal, to be just two friends talking at a bar with some weird pop song playing on the background.

So, when after three glasses of alcohol Bill's demeanor changed, Richie felt uneasy. He saw the exact moment where the blue in Bill's eyes turned opaque, something crossing the writer's mind and making his shoulders fall slightly and his expression turn into a mix of sadness, anger and guilt — the last one easily recognizable in Bill's face since Richie had seen it more than once. Something told Richie that a joke wouldn't help, that words would not be able to take that expression from Bill, and he listened to that voice this one time, getting comfortable on the cushioned seat and holding his glass with a little more strength.

"You said you wanted to talk about something." Richie offered, Bill's eyes rising again to look at the man in front of him and Richie almost lost his breath at the sadness he found inside of them.

Bill took a minute to gather his words, swallowing the rest of his drink and grimacing at himself before he took a deep breath and looked at Richie's eyes as if he was going to break at any second.

"I wanted to th-talk to you, Richie." his voice was weak, the pop song playing on the background suddenly seeming out of place. "A-about Eddie."

Richie felt his body go still all of the sudden with the mention of Eddie's name, knuckles going white as he tightened the grip on the glass and tried to calm his breathing. He didn't truly understood what Bill wanted by bringing that up, but he suddenly felt as if he didn't want to be there anymore. Instead of getting up and leaving, he moved his eyes to the table and cleared his throat.

"What do you mean?" his voice was as serious as it never been, not a trace of amusement in those words nor a sign that he would make a joke there.

Bill hesitated again, eyes falling to the table like Richie's before his voice sounded like a whisper in the middle of the bar. "It was muh-my fault that he… And I'm suh-sorry, Richie. I know you loved-"

 _"Your_ fault?"

Bill swallowed a lump down his throat as Richie's gaze seemed to burn him. Richie wasn't truly mad; confused and sad maybe, but not mad. And yet he didn't know why all of the sudden Bill was blaming himself for Eddie's death as if he had taken Eddie's life himself, although it wasn't truly surprising. Bill tended to take everything on him, like he was responsible for every bad thing that ever happened to the people around him and the true people — or things — that were responsible were just collateral effects to _his_ actions. 

"That duh-day when he… When we were at Neibolt and you were attacked by th-that weird _spider-Stan_ creature and he got scared I screamed at him." Bill said, closing his own eyes as if he was mad at himself with the memory, eyes suddenly gleaming with tears that he kept at bay in order to keep talking. "I muh-made him feel bad for being ss-scared… And then he..."

Richie vaguely remembered that, remembered Bill getting angry after Eddie didn't manage to move to help him and screaming at Eddie right after. He remembered Eddie's eyes at that moment as well, as painful as it was, and how sad and scared they were as he asked Bill not to be mad at him. The memory made Richie's chest ache and he finished his own drink, expecting the burning of the alcohol to distract him from the pain that never really left him, that came back with each nightmare. 

"If I hadn't… Maybe if I hadn't suh-said those things he…"

"Stop."

Bill's eyes moved to look at Richie across the table, and Richie didn't know if he looked as pained as he felt. He surely was feeling like shit now, but if he looked like one Bill didn't seem to react to that.

"I nuh-needed to say I'm ss-sorry. To you. Buh-because of how yuh-you felt towards Eddie." he shook his head. "That whole mess was muh-my fault in the end…"

"Maybe it was." Richie's voice was quiet as he said that, and he saw how Bill's breath caught on his throat, the affirmative coming from Richie seeming to confirm his fears. "But then again he died trying to save me."

It was like taking a bandage from an open wound, the cloth sticking to the blood and the exposed muscle, pulling the small amount of coagulated blood that made that protective coat so the wound would stop bleeding and properly heal and starting the bleeding all over again. It was painful and made the body tense with the pain and eyes water in response, but the pain would die down soon after the initial pull happened. Taking the blame felt like it for Richie. Bill only stared at him, eyes still pained and still sticking to his guilt, making Richie sigh.

"You were hard on him that night, Bill. Screamed at him. That's a fact. But he died saving me from the Deadlights. And he died because of Pennywise." Richie's voice was bitter, tired even, as he said those words. It was something that Richie had thought about for a while, when he himself had made himself believe that Eddie was dead because of him like Bill was doing. He didn't blame Bill for not realizing it sooner, specially for the bad habit his friend had of storing guilt and letting it consume him, but he needed to listen to that, to the truth, that it wasn't anyone's fault except the fucking clown's. "I think each one of the Losers have something to think about when it comes to Eddie. Bev and I talked about this once, this guilt. She had it too. But it wasn't you, or me, or Bev, who stabbed Eddie. As far as I know, you don't have a giant sting coming out of your butt."

Richie tried the joke, even if he himself wasn't able to even smile at that, but Bill seemed to ignore it, eyes low as he listened to Richie's words and allowed them to settle. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he heard a quiet _'Beep beep, Richie'._

"It sh-shouldn't have ended like that." it was all that Bill said, voice quiet and expression still heavy. Richie nodded, sighing, knowing that it would take a while for Bill to accept that. Richie had a hard time doing it himself.

"It shouldn't." he admitted, raising his empty glass and seeing Bill look at him curiously before his gaze finally softened and they cheered with empty glasses together. No drinks to that. "But we'll make this work."

**Author's Note:**

> Comments and kuddos are deeply appreciated 💓


End file.
